


Sherlollipops - Semi-Ambulatory

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [217]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/M, Inappropriate ambulance sex, Sherlolly - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9415679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: My take on ambulance sex from “The Lying Detective”. Spoilers for that episode.





	

She wanted to murder him. Oh, not literally - well, yes, actually,  _ quite  _ literally at the moment. ‘Just tell me when to cough’ - seriously???

“So, what, you think you have a hernia?” she asked as soon as the ambulance doors closed behind them, unable to keep silent a moment longer and uncaring if he could deduce her anger through the sarcasm. If he was in any fit shape to deduce anything at all, of course.

Which, it would seem, he was, judging by the infuriating smirk he gave her as he flopped down on the gurney. “Of course not. I’m dehydrated, high off my tits and probably heading into organ failure, but no, I don’t have a hernia.”

Molly’s heart sank at his flippant commentary, suspecting that the exam she was supposed to give him would show that he was speaking nothing but the truth - but she was still furious, and it was that fury coupled with her fear for his life that caused her next, scathing words. “Oh, so that means you must want me to cup your balls purely for pleasure, is that it?”

He sat up so quickly that she yelped in surprise. At the same moment the ambulance began moving, lurching forward and knocking her off her feet...straight into Sherlock’s arms.

She started to pull herself free of his hold, face burning at the way she was sprawled on top of him, but he tightened his grip around her, nuzzling his face against her neck. She went rigid with shock when she heard him mutter, “As it happens, I actually would love it if you cupped my balls, Molly.” Then he gave a deliberate thrust of his hips, and her face burned even redder as she felt what she suspected was a more-than-adequate erection against her center. 

“Christ, Sherlock, this isn’t a game,” she protested, squirming in his hold as she tried once again to free herself. He was high of his tits, to borrow his own, crude expression and physically weakened; she shouldn’t be having this much difficulty escaping his arms!

“I know it’s not,” he murmured, lifting his head and peering at her through glazed, fever-bright eyes. “None of it is, it’s a plan. But I like the way you put that, be sure to use it again in front of John when you tell him how close I am to dying, will you?”

“I won’t know for sure if you’re close to dying until I can examine you,” she replied through gritted teeth, although it was hard to maintain her anger when desire was fighting for dominance. Sherlock had returned to kissing her throat, and one hand had slipped beneath both her lab coat and her cardigan and was tugging the hem of her blouse free of her skirt. Which, Molly belatedly noticed, had ridden up quite high on her thighs. The feel of his long, elegant fingers as they brushed across her bare flesh caused her to shudder, and she felt his lips curving in a grin - undoubtedly of triumph - as she turned her head to give him better access to her throat.

“This is wrong,” she whispered weakly as he hitched her skirt further up. But she helped him when he tugged impatiently at her lab coat, allowing it to slide down her arms along with the teal cardigan until both had slipped to the ambulance floor. Her blouse was next, unbuttoned to expose her brightly flowered bra with its front clasp. She moaned aloud as Sherlock undid it, sliding the cups to the side and palming her breasts with a rough eagerness that caused her to shiver with lust.

“Yeah, but you don’t want me to stop,” Sherlock mumbled as he urged her forward so he could suckle hard at each nipple in turn. His hands had returned to her legs, stroking the backs of her thighs up to her bum. “Goddamn tights,” he grumbled. “Kneel up.” 

She did as he’d ordered, holding onto a convenient strap with one hand and bracing herself against his chest with the other. He reached between her legs, stroking the growing dampness that had soaked through both knickers and tights, and she gasped as she felt him tugging at the fabric of the latter. A sharp tearing sound, a quick push to get her knickers out of the way, and suddenly at least two of his fingers were inside her, thrusting roughly as she bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from keening her pleasure. So far they’d been quiet enough that the ambulance driver wouldn’t be able to hear them over the sound of the engine, and she wanted to keep it that way.

“So wet,” Sherlock said, his voice a deep, appreciative rumble. She met his gaze, saw the lust in his eyes that surely matched her own. “So ready for me to fuck you. Undo my trousers, Molly, I can’t wait another fucking minute.”

She hastened to obey, tugging both pants and trousers down to free his erection. He lifted his hips to help, sucking obscenely on the fingers he’d pulled from her pussy and grinning a dangerous, feral grin as she reached down to cup his balls. He even coughed a little, an obvious, fake cough that shouldn’t have made her get even wetter for him...but that was exactly the effect it had on her. Molly groaned and dropped down so that their torsos met, hands tugging at the greasy, unwashed curls on his head and greedily pressing her lips to his.

The scruff on his face shouldn’t have been sexy; nothing about this situation should have been sexy, but it was, all of it was, and although she knew damned well she would regret it later, all she could think about now was how fucking good it felt to finally kiss him. To feel his tongue sliding against hers, to hear the moans and hums of approval he was making, to feel his cock sliding against the slick wetness of her exposed cunt. “Oh, God, please, Sherlock,” she whispered against his lips. “Please fuck me.”

He gave a low laugh, then she felt one hand slide between them. She lifted herself up in anticipation, and he guided himself into her before moving both hands to grasp her bum. She moaned at the sensation as he slowly filled her, leaning forward in a silent appeal that he easily answered, mouthing her breasts, licking her nipples and tugging gently at them with his teeth, then not so gently as she lifted her hips and slammed herself back down on top of him.

“Fuck,” he gasped out before returning to his enthusiastic appreciation of her breasts. She felt like asking him if he still thought she was ‘compensating’, but the delicious burn of his cock and the hard tug of his mouth kept her speechless. It was tight quarters on the gurney, but she appreciated that fact as the ambulance took a corner and nearly tumbled the pair of them onto the floor. A quick flick of the wrist and Sherlock raised the side bars, locking it automatically into place before once again devoting his full attention to her. 

Molly took the opportunity to sit up, her hands flat on his chest as she rode him. Some devil made her reach back after a minute and cup his balls, skimming the flesh between them and his rectum with the tip of one finger. 

“Fucking hell!” he gasped out, bucking up beneath her, his eyes wild, fingers tightening their grasp on her hips. “Shit, Molly!” Just as she started to pull her hand away, he added, “Do that again...please.”

Sherlock Holmes, begging? Too good an opportunity to let pass. “Only if you promise to tell me what this is all about,” she ordered, stopping all movement as she glared down at him. “Promise.”

“I promise, yes, fuck, Christ, whatever you want,” he groaned, moving his hips in a futile attempt to get her to do the same.

“Do you mean it?” she asked, ruthlessly taking advantage of the fact the she currently held the upper hand. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I never say anything I don’t mean unless it’s for a case,” he protested, then let out a huff of annoyance as she continued to stare him down. “Okay, fine, I promise. I’ll tell you everything. Afterwards. But,” he added warningly as she raised herself up, “I also promise that you won’t like it.”

“Sherlock, I already don’t like it,” she replied impatiently. “I doubt you could say anything to make me like it even less, unless it’s that you’ve just given up and don’t want to live any more.”

He shook his. “Oh no, Molly Hooper, if there’s one thing I plan to do when this is all over with, is live.” The wicked smile returned to his lips as he reached up to cup her breasts. “If only so we can keep doing this.”

The potential for this to be more than a drug-fuelled one-off was enough to set Molly’s libido soaring again, even if part of her remained skeptical. Still, he’d promised, and in such a way that she believed him, so she returned to the urgent business at hand, lifting and lowering herself on top of him, fucking him hard even as she cupped his balls and once again tickled the spot below them that seemed to be one of his more sensitive erogenous zones.

After a few minutes, however, she lay back on top of him with her hands in his hair, the two of them trading sloppy kisses as she chased her completion. The angle was much better, her clit hitting against his pubic bone, but it wasn’t until he sucked a finger into his mouth and then slid it into her ass that she felt her orgasm building for real. She keened and moaned as he finger-fucked her in an alternating rhythm with that of his cock in her cunt. When she felt the rising rippling that signaled her imminent release she turned her head and bit down hard on his shoulder to help muffle the series of sharp, short cries she couldn’t control.

Sherlock’s fingers dug into her hips hard enough to bruise as she started coming around him, and his own rhythm sped up to a frenzied series of hard, erratic thrusts that soon culminated in his own orgasm. They gasped and moaned and held one another as their bodies came down, sweat cooling on their flesh while they waited for their heartbeats and breathing to return to normal.

As soon as she felt him softening inside her Molly knelt back up, waiting for him to lower the side rail before clambering off him and standing on shaky legs as she cleaned herself up with some antibacterial wipes and paper towels. 

Sherlock did up his trousers, not bothering with cleanup, but considering his general state of uncleanliness, she wasn’t surprised. “We should be there in three minutes,” he said crisply as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the gurney. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Here’s what I’ve been taking. Remember to tell John that I’ll be dead in a few weeks if I keep this up.”

As Molly incredulously scanned the list he’d given her, she shook her head. “You will, Sherlock.” Then she folded it, put in the pocket of her labcoat, and looked at him. “Three minutes. Explain - no, not enough time. Sum up.”

As he outlined the situation with Culverton Smith, she couldn’t help feeling he was leaving something out, something important, but resolved to wait until she could get the full explanation before calling him out on it. Then the ambulance slowed and came to a stop and it was time to put on an act in front of John Watson that was only partially an act.

But oh, Sherlock Holmes had a LOT of explaining to do once this plan of his had been completed.

  
  



End file.
